


Surprise, I Cooked!

by Jld71



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Attempt at cooking, Bad Cooking, Brunch, Dogs Take The Blame, Established Relationship, M/M, Valentine's Day, burnt food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22722088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jld71/pseuds/Jld71
Summary: Despite Jared’s inability to cook, he decides to make a Valentine’s Day brunch for Jeff.
Relationships: Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Surprise, I Cooked!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emmatheslayer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmatheslayer/gifts).



> Written for the 2020 Be Mine SPN/RPF Comment Fic Meme
> 
> emmatheslayer's prompt: Jared can't cook for shit but he wants to make this first Valentine's Day special so he makes brunch.
> 
> Do Not Re-Post Without My Written Permission - Only To Be Posted On My AO3 Or LiveJournal Accounts.

Jared stood at their front door wavering goodbye as Jeff pulled out of their driveway with their three dogs in the back of his truck. It was doggie play day for them and Jeff’s turn to take them to the dog park. He knew it took roughly thirty minutes to drive there and back and their babies usually played for at least an hour. This gave him enough time to put his plan into action. Really, how hard could it be to make brunch? Okay, for him, it was next to impossible, but he was determined to create a wonderful and romantic Valentine’s Day brunch for their official first Valentine’s Day together as a couple.

His cooking skills were next to nothing, and yes, he had been known to burn water, but he tried. That was the important part. The last time he had tried to cook for Jeff, he may or may not have given him food poisoning. To this day, he still wasn’t sure and really, there hadn’t been any definitive proof that his cooking had caused Jeff’s illness. He still stuck by his theory that Jeff’s intestinal distress had been from the breakfast he had and not the grilled cheese and sardine sandwich he had whipped up for him. He had an issue with Jeff’s pan and his oven, so the bread had been slightly charred, but that only added to the overall flavor. As for Jeff’s pan, he was pretty sure it hadn’t been of the greatest quality. It certainly didn’t live up to its non-stick, easy to clean claim since Jeff had to throw it out afterwards. And don’t get him started on Jeff’s stove. Who had an electric stove? Those damn things were tricky. The coils confused him, he never knew what temperature the burner was at. With a gas stove, the height of the flame told him everything, and the higher the flame, the quicker the food cooked.

Walking into the kitchen, the first thing he did was grab the eggs, milk and cheese from the refrigerator. Then came the mixing bowl, whisk and spatula. The only other thing he needed was a frying pan. He rummaged through the deep draw next to the stove where Jeff kept his pots and pans until he found a cast iron pan and set it on the burner. He shot the electric stove a disapproving look and then went back to the ingredients he had left on the counter. Grabbing the bowl and eggs, he cracked several eggs, letting the yokes and whites plop into the bowl. A few tiny pieces of egg shell may have gotten in, but he saw no reason to labor over trying to pull them out. They would just add a crunchy aspect to the eggs once they had been cooked. When he felt he had enough eggs cracked, he added milk to the bowl, grabbed the whisk and began to whip the combination until it was a frothy mixture before adding in the cheese.

He made sure to clean up after himself as he went, remembering Jeff’s words that it was easier that way than leaving a big mess until the end. Turning the front burner on to high, he placed the pan down, poured the eggs into it and stepped back, admiring his attempts at cooking. So far, so good, he thought. He eyed the bread on the counter as a smile came to his lips. Knowing that Jeff usually liked toast with his eggs, he placed the bread in the toaster, set it to the darkest setting and turned back to the eggs. Grabbing the spatula, he poked at the eggs, scraping the bottom of the pan as he scrambled them. They may not have turned out exactly like he’d hoped, being brown and not the creamy yellow like he’d wanted, but he also hadn’t set them on fire.

He sniffed the air, catching the scent of something burning and realized that the toast was still in the toaster. Turning off the burner and setting the eggs aside, he went to rescue the toast as it finally popped up. He frowned at the blackened bread, then shrugged. All it needed was butter and it would be fine, he decided as he grabbed plates; one for the toast and the other for the eggs. Placing both plates filled with the food he’d just prepared on the counter, he decided he wasn’t happy with everything, just yet. Pancakes, every good brunch had pancakes. He pulled open the refrigerator door, looking for the pre-made batter. Finding it on the door, he grabbed it and then returned to the stove, letting the door swing shut on its own.

He read the directions; shake well, pour onto a warm griddle or frying pan, flip once bubbles appear around the edges, cook until golden brown. Easy as pie, he thought as he shook the carton, pulled open the flap and poured enough to make three pancakes into the pan he had cooked the eggs in. The pan was still warm and all he had to do was crank the burner up as high as it went and he’d be able to have the pancakes finished by the time Jeff returned with the dogs. 

He decided that eating at the breakfast counter wasn’t good enough for their brunch and wandered off to grab a tablecloth from the closet that Jeff stored them in. He found a red one, grabbed it and spread it out over the kitchen table. He remembered the vase of tulips in the living room that Jeff had given him and he scurried off to get it. Placing it in the middle of the table, he was satisfied with the romantic look he’d created. 

All that was left for him to do was finish cooking the pancakes and set the table. He made his way back over to the stove, picked up the spatula and tried to flip the pancakes over. Once he’d managed to pry them off the pan, he flipped them over. One side would be crispy for this first batch, but he’d make sure to have them on the bottom of the plate. Besides, once Jeff added butter and maple syrup, he wouldn’t even notice, he reasoned. He grabbed another plate, placed the pancakes, crispy side down on it and poured more batter out into the pan, having just enough to make three more, and then tossed the carton in the trash. He picked up the salt and pepper on his way back to the refrigerator to pull out the butter and syrup and then placed those down on the table. He returned to the stove, flipped the pancakes over, which were only slightly crispy, and then pulled out silverware and two more plates. He debated on whether he had enough time to set the table before he had to get the pancakes off the burner. He decided to finish cooking and then set the table. 

With the pancakes done, he filled the sink with hot soapy water and submerged the frying pan in it to soak. Picking up the plates and silverware, he set the table and then carried the plates of food over, arranging them in the middle of the table. He was just pouring two glasses of orange juice when he heard Jeff calling out to him. With a dimpled smile, he turned to greet Jeff, “Happy Valentine’s Day. I cooked for you. I made us brunch.”

Jeff smiled at Jared and then looked dubiously at the plates of food. “Yeah, I can see that.” He stood, looking transfixed at the burnt and most likely inedible food Jared had taken the time to cook for him. Wondering how he was going to get out of eating even a mouthful, he pulled Jared into his arms and kissed him. “Thank you, babe. This looks . . .” He swallowed, trying to find a tactful to tell Jared that while he loved him, there was no way in hell, he was eating whatever it was on the plates. “This looks so good.” He didn’t have the heart to say anything else when he saw the beaming look of pride on Jared’s face. He surveyed the kitchen, seeing that there were no scorch marks on the walls, and said a silent prayer of thanks. 

Realizing what Jeff was looking at, Jared tossed his head back in laughter. “Don’t worry, I cleaned as I cooked. Just like you do. The only thing that’s soaking in the sink is the cast iron frying pan. I made sure to use hot water and plenty of dish soap. That thing is heavy, but indestructible,” he said with a grin.

All Jeff could do was close his eyes and count to ten as he suppressed his groan at the thought of what Jared had done. The one thing that should never be done to a cast iron pan was clean it with soap, and Jared had done just that. He’d have to throw that one out and replace it without Jared catching on. “Yeah, babe, it is.” He gave Jared another kiss and then noticed that Jared’s shirt was covered in what he assumed was pancake batter. “Why don’t you go change your shirt, then we can eat this wonderful brunch you made,” he suggested, hoping Jared would agree.

Looking down at his shirt, Jared saw the splatters of batter and giggled. “Yeah, be right back,” he agreed as he disappeared into the bedroom.

Jeff moved quickly, dumping the contents of the plates onto the floor as he softly called the dogs over. “Listen, you three take the blame for this and I promise to get you each a nice new bone to chew on.” He waited a moment before calling out, “No, bad dogs!”

Jared came running out of the bedroom, still pulling his shirt on, to see what was going on. He saw Jeff kneeling down by the table, surrounded by their dogs. “What happened?”

Jeff looked up at Jared, trying to look sad, “Seems these three decided that they wanted in on brunch. I’m sorry, everything’s ruined.” He gave the dogs a smile as he pushed them away and then started to pick the food up off the floor, piling everything onto one of the plates. “You worked so hard on this, and I didn’t even get to taste it.” 

Dragging the trash can over Jared frowned at the mess. “I’m sorry brunch got ruined. I think there’s still some eggs and bread, but I used all the pancake batter. I could remake some of it for you,” he offered as he helped clean the mess the dogs had created.

Jeff’s head shot up, “What? No!” He cleared his throat and then smiled at Jared. “I mean, you already went to so much trouble. Why don’t we finish up here and then I’ll take you to that little bistro you like so much?” He watched as Jared considered his offer, hoping Jared would agree to his suggestion.

A dimpled grin formed on Jared’s face and he nodded in agreement. “Okay, I’d like that.” Looking over at the dogs, he noticed they didn’t look as sorry as he expected them to. “No treats for any of you,” he admonished. He leaned into Jeff, knocking shoulders with him. “They don’t look sorry at all.”

“I’m sure they are,” Jeff commented as he glanced over at the dogs. Standing up, he helped Jared up, emptied the plates into the trash and then carried them over to the sink where he left them. He’d deal with everything after Jared had gone to bed that night. He heard Jared dragging the trash can back and he turned to him. “Ready to go?” 

“Yeah.”

Digging the keys to his truck out of his pocket, he handed them to Jared. “Mind starting the truck while I lock up?”

“Of course not.” Jared gave Jeff a quick kiss before going outside to start Jeff’s truck.

Hearing his truck start up, Jeff heaved a sigh of relief. “Thanks boys, I owe you. By taking the blame, you saved my ass and Valentine’s Day.” He gave each dog a scratch behind their ears before he went to join Jared, thankful that he had dodged eating Jared’s cooking and ending up in the ER on Valentine’s Day. 


End file.
